Nightmare
by Culfindae
Summary: What started out as every fan girl's dream ended up a nightmare – the longest night of my life. multiple, multiple, multiple cross-overs, if you get the drift. Rated for possible loss of sanity. On hiatus.
1. Wonderful World of Disney

**Chapter 1**

(What started out as every fan girl's dream ended up a nightmare – the longest night of my life. multiple, multiple, multiple cross-overs, if you get the drift. Rated for possible loss of sanity.)

(A/N: the views of the characters are not the views of the writer.)

I'll say this once – all of you 'Mary-Sue's' writers, I HATE YOU! I believed all those stories about the young girl being wisped into Middle-Earth or the Labrynith, or the _Millennium Falcon. _You really consider those sweet nothing plots as anything towards reality? I hate to break it to you, but the truth isn't anything like it; in fact, it's a nightmare. Believe me, I lived it. And trust me, when everything 'Mary-Sue'ish' starts happening, you're clicking your heels together, saying, 'there's no place like home, there's no place like home…' Trust me on this one.

Maybe you need a better explanation…

I was away from home, in Disneyland in fact. The rest of my family was still home (parents working and siblings had school). I liked having little get-aways that included me, myself, and I. I love my family, I really do, but every now and then, I need to cut the cord. I'm sure you know how that feels.

The good thing about being alone in an amusement park is that you don't have to debate on which ride to go on or when to eat or where to meet up or anything like that. Everything I wanted to do, I could do it. If I wanted to eat, I'd grab something at one of the vendors and munch away. If I wanted to watch a parade, I could do so – and it was my decision when to leave. I could go on any ride I wanted – except for those reserved for children only. I could hurry, and I could take my time. Complete and utter freedom. The only side effect was there was no one I knew around to share the experience with.

The rides I liked going on were the ones I knew from my childhood – yes, I've been to Disneyland many time now, and no, I don't live in California. You know how it is, taking a ride on an attraction you came in contact with in your youth (okay, okay, okay, when you were _younger_). It's kinda like going against the saying 'there is no going home' and yelling 'well guess what, perhaps I can't stay there, but I can sure as heck visit it any time I want.'

As immature as that sounds, I had really grown up… I think. That would depend on your view of growing up. I always seemed to have a sober disposition, always thinking ahead with overall objective in mind. For crying out loud, I had a midlife crisis during the fourth grade!

Okay, I'm off my soap box now. Getting back to where I was…

I don't remember what the ride is officially called, but everyone knows it as 'A Small World' ride. It's dull, I know, but it was another ride back into my years before I turned into double digits. The line, as usual, was extremely short. Not that I blame the crowd. What attracts everyone was bigger, flashier, faster – not a slow boat ride with a bunch of puppets moving to a child's song. What made the line even shorter was that it was nearing closing. Yeah, you know – when it's dark out and everyone else is heading for bed.

I waited in line, observing the groups in the line, the coming and going of boats, the rate of the line's progression. The rate of those entering the line had diminished to a point where only a few others were behind me. Considering the ride was near the other side of the park, the numbers weren't surprising.

Some couples were discussing ride schedules, where they were going afterwards, and other personal affairs. I know it was rude of me to listen in like that, but I couldn't help myself. Come on, if you had nothing to do but wait, you'd be listening too – and with no intention to do so.

The average wait time on a ride is fifteen minutes. I only had to wait two. The boat drifted up, with the help of the underwater conveyer belt, and I stepped in, alone in my own row. The ride was only twenty minutes at most. There was time enough to go through and make my way out before the park closed.

The water was calm, gently slapping against the sides of the boat. The music was growing as the boat continued. Room after room was filled with moving puppets, some dancing, some building, some playing – but each of them were doing whatever it was together, regardless of race, religion, or whatnot. Gotta give Disney credit on trying to encourage world tolerance.

World's Fair… World's Carnival… was that what the ride was called? I mentally shrugged and decided to let it alone till after the ride. I could check for signs to be sure.

The boats were passing the Eskimo scene, cute like the rest of the ride, as the boats started to slow down. I certainly didn't remember that happening the last time I was here.

The lights went out and silence.


	2. Orcs why did it have to be Orcs

**Chapter 2**

_Okay…_ I thought to myself. _Lights are out, and everyone is quiet. The ride must have shut down. Someone will notice, get going on repairs. If it takes longer than expected, someone will come for us. Wait a minute! Why aren't the emergency lights on? There always emergency lights for public places._

I strained my ears, listening for anything. Water. The boats bumping against each other. My own breathing and heart rate. Why couldn't I hear anyone else?

_Okay, I'm not going to just sit here and piss myself._ I dug into my pockets, pulling out my keys. The key chain was actually a mini flashlight, one of those advertising devices from a pharaceutical company. The beam of light settled upon the puppet scenery, running its way down to the water. Ripples came here and there, originating from somewhere away from the boats.

There was a distinctive sound of something submerging… that deep plop sound. I flashed the light towards the sound, only finding fresh ripples. I tried to find any signs of what could have caused the sound.

Man, do I ever get paranoid when the lights go out.

Best check the others. _I'm sure they're just as scared as I am._

The light passed quickly from the river to the seats in front. Empty seats. Is that right? I could have sworn there were others in front. Oh well… just as long as the park repaints these things soon. Really, the pink and frilly mingled with splattered red tie-dye doesn't work.

The boat groaned behind me and I turned around.

Remains. That was what there were. Lower half of bodies, still sitting calmly, were draped with organs and intestines. Blood flowed and oozed from the bodies, onto the boats. An upper half was here and there, lying next to the lower trunk or on the other side of the boat, with an arm sprawled out towards the water, as if trying to reach for something.

I spun around, now recognizing the splattered red paint in front as blood, bright red blood. I was just unable to see the bodies.

Being in the medical profession, you'd think you'd get used to this. But this… this… if I had seen 'Texas Chainsaw Massacre', then maybe I could compare. This wasn't humane.

My blood was running like ice, pumping furiously as I spun round and round, searching for something – for the… the… _thing_ that did this, for some way out, for some sign of hope, for someone else who was still alive, for something – anything!

An object landed next to me. I turned the light towards it. A hand! It was ripped – and I do mean ripped – just a bit above the wrist. A bit of the ring finger looked as if it had been ground off. It was smeared with blood, and had a few bloody marks showing where another hand had handled it.

If I had been shaking before, I was quaking now as I reluctantly back tracked the hands path to its origin. The light reached the back seats and soft growl rose. A black form rose and I opened my mouth, trying to speak to only find myself too terrified to scream. I had watched 'Lord of the Rings' enough times to know an Orc when I saw one.

The boat groaned and a shiver went up my spine. I knew well enough to never turn my back to an Orc, but 'a shadow and a threat was growing in my mind'. It was the only way to explain it.

Behind me, three boats away, two more Orcs stood, eyes glued on me in a way, as if to say 'I'm dessert'. One was licking the blood from his crude knife, as a kid licks the rest of the 

brownie batter from the spoon. The other was presently chewing off a piece of someone's face, like one would eat a fruit roll-up. The face was now missing a part of chin, bottom lip, and cheek. It was a bit bloodied and knifed, but I recognized it as one of the passengers who had been waiting in line.

My breathing became rapid, flight and fight syndrome kicking in. My attention was now torn between the one in front and the two behind, still too terrified to move or speak.

The first was finished with his first course, and now wanted more, climbing over the seats.

I instinctively back away, just barely remembering there were two others behind me. I turned to find they did not want to be outdone, and were progressing towards me.

_Oh, scheise!_ I looked back and forth, my mind trying to deal with the present situation and the growing panic simultaneously.

Something moved in the water. I flashed the light, finding another Orc surfacing and making his way towards me.

_Okay, now its time to start moving!_

I turned towards my only opened exit, jumping out of my boat, towards the hill display of now stationary puppets.

A high-pitched roar resounded. I quickly turned to see two of the Orcs jumping from the boats and catching up.

_Oh shit!_

My legs and arms worked harder than they ever did during swim team. Forget pacing myself, I wanted to _live_! I made it to the slope, clothes now soaked and slowing me down. I just had to find a way out of this ride – and perhaps find some help.

I dodged and weaved between the puppets and the props, hoping it would put some distance between me and those things – thank all that's holy for belly dancing (trust me, it helps with the dodging and weaving part).

There was a walkway hugging the wall – perhaps it would lead to the beginning. I weaved between two puppets, dodging a big block.

An Orc jumped up, blocking my way. He aimed his bow, and I knew better than to stay put. Too bad I wasn't fast enough. The arrow caught between my clavicle and my scapula (my collar bone and shoulder blade).

A scream erupted from my throat. I stumbled, clawing at the shaft, pulling my hand away at the last minute and remembering my medical training. The last thing I wanted to do was move an impaled object until in a safer place and by higher skilled personnel (cough surgeon cough).

I steadied myself against a tree prop, feeling every bit of the pain. Hot tears were running down my cheek. Why was this happening?

"GRRRAAAAAaaaaaa!"

The roar of the Orcs brought back the present problem – getting out of there. Live first, and then get the arrow out. I stood up and headed towards the wall. There should be at least an access door.

_Please help, please!_ I prayed.

I was sobbing in pain as I ran along the wall, searching for some sign of a door. This wasn't fair!

An Orc caught up, swinging his broadsword as he may. I dodged, though he chopped through my favorite sweater. Better my apparel than my hand. He swung again, trying for my head. I dodged again, and he missed, hitting my arm instead.

I sobbed even more. What was this bull about heroines baring their wounds lightly? Sorry, but it just hurt too much.

A hand grabbed my uninjured arm and dragged me from the Orc. I could hear it screech and squeal, but nothing after that. I was dragged into another room, and the door promptly shut after I was barely in.

The hand supported me, gently setting me down and searching my wounds. My eyes were too blurred with tears to see my rescuer.

"Will the boy live?" asked a man.

_Boy? What b… oh… me and my short hair._

"I do think, indeed, that _she_ will live," answered an elderly, but firm, voice.

"She?" said another.

"Yes, she," said the elderly man.

The tending hand had wrapped up my arm and was presently assessing the arrow.

"This will cause great pain," the healer forewarned me.

"And what do you think I'm in now? Ecstasy?" I retorted.

There was a pounding noise, and what looked like to be the door was now being braced. Two figures were bracing the door with random objects and themselves. Orcs were trying to get through.

One of the figures, slender and tall, turned toward my healer. "Aragorn, we must hurry!"

_Aragorn? As in…? Considering I was almost killed by Orcs, I'll believe anything right now._

Aragorn nodded in response and turned his attentions back to me. "Forgive me for what I'll have to do."

"Get this… arrow out and… I'll forgive you… of almost anything," I said between the sobs of pain.

Through my blurry vision of tears, I could see his face grow concern and his figure reach for objects around him. He placed something on my lips. "Bite on this," he instructed. Ripping my clothing around the entrance and exit wound, Aragorn took a good look at the damage.

"Would you like me to put you in a state of sleep?" the elderly man asked.

I shook my head 'no' towards where Gandalf most likely was standing (as I assumed the old man's voice was his). I turned my head towards the braced door, as if to point out we might have to get out of there at any moment – and being unconscious wouldn't help any matters.

"Yes, this is, indeed, a woman," said Aragorn as he assessed the arrow (which was conveniently lodged near my breasts).

"JUSH GEH EH OW!" What I meant to say was 'just get it out', but my teeth were biting down on a piece of wood.

Another pair of hands held me from the back. I looked up at the man, who nodded at Aragorn, as if agreeing to do something. Curiosity got the better of me as I looked towards his belt. That horn hanging at his side gave away his name instantly.

"Hold her tight," Aragorn said, as his hands took hold of the tip of the arrow.

_Here goes my life flashing before my eyes."_

"GHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!"

I had the impression that everyone else in the room jumping at my scream. Even the pounding at the door stopped momentarily.

"Easy now," Boromir soothed. "We're just getting to the hard part."

_The WHAT! What can be possibly worse than what I just went through?!_

Aragorn placed a firm hand on the shaft end. My life went flashing before Aragorn started pulling

It was too much to even scream – too much to think or feel. The arrow was pulled out and the wound was burnt closed and dressed. It was few moments afterward – after the pain and reality had receded – before I started screaming again. Boromir held me against himself, trying to sooth away the pain, eventually becoming my pillow. My rapid breathing eased only slightly, preventing hyperventilating. I spat out the stick and wiped my face clear of tears.

"Aragorn, we mustn't linger," the lean man again warned.

Aragorn pulled me up into a sitting position. "Can you go on?"

As one of my drill sergeants many times ingrained into my mind (yes, I'm military), "Slight discomfort, no pain."

I could sense a few eyebrows rising, but let it be. Right now was not the time to explain.

"Come," said Boromir as he helped me to my feet. "Do you know the way?"

I shook my head 'no'. "Never been in here before."

A small person appeared next to me, offering his shoulder. I knew there was a reason why I liked hobbits – those sweet things… er… beings.

"Ah! It's this way," said Gandalf. How come I wasn't surprised?

Gandalf's staff offered some light, giving me a brief chance to view my surroundings. The walls were lined with computers, monitors, and tools. Now and then there were shelves cluttered with wires or something else in the middle of the way. Other than that, it was dark, gray, and reminded me of a back stage setting.

I could now make out there were more to the party than the wizard, two men, and the hobbit. Gimli was leaning on his ax, watching me just as wearily as I watched him. Frodo and Sam were following me and Pippin (who I learned was the one offering me support). Merry was on the opposite side just incase I faltered. The lean man who was giving warnings was actually Legolas (just to warn you, one look at that glowing airhead and I hated all elves – okay, maybe not all elves; just Legolas). If that wasn't a 'Mary-Sue' factor then I'm a runway model.

We went as fast as my injuries allowed towards whatever exit or door we could find.

"How did you get here?" I asked.

"Where are we?" Merry asked at the same time.

Boromir shrugged when I looked towards him. "My knowledge on the subject, I'm afraid, fail, milady. The last I remember were arrows in my chest and Aragorn's face."

We both looked at each other and Merry gave in, shrugging. "Don't know, really… one minute, I'm back in the Shire, telling Diamond of my adventures in Rohan, the next I'm here with too many Orcs."

"One Orc is too many," I corrected. "So, no idea whatsoever…"

"So, where are we?"

"On the battle grounds for the Last War," Gandalf said, loud enough for all to hear.

_Last War? How come my stomach is twisting at that, like I know what he means and I'm not going to like it?_

"The Last War?" echoed Legolas. "Surely the end of time is not yet so near."

_End of time?_ "Armageddon! You're talking about Armageddon?" My jaw dropped and eyes popped in disbelief, somehow mortified. I'm as religious as the next person, but had never intention or belief of being present for Armageddon.

Gandalf turned and gave a slight smile. "See, even mortals of this realm know of the Last War – at least this one does."

"Yes, but where are we in relation to where we were?" Pippin asked. Bless his heart. I always had a theory over that, and now I had a chance to give a try.

"Are you familiar with 'The Red Book of Westmarch'?" I asked. When all I received were shaking heads and blank stares, I continued. "It started out as 'There and Back Again'."

"Bilbo's book!" cried Frodo. "Of course! It's bound in red leather!"

I nodded. "I won't go into detail, but the long and short of it was after" Merry moved a bit of wiring out of my way "Thank you. After who know how many years, when elves were forgotten and any free people alienated contact with man – when all remains of what once was were no more, a man with knowledge of languages found this book. He was able to decipher the book, thus gaining back the tales put down in that book. We don't have a complete history, but something is better than nothing."

"Then why are _we_ here?" Sam asked. "What's history is history. Best stick to what is."

"Did you learn nothing during your journeying, Samwise?" said Gandalf. When Sam made no reply, he continued. "This is the Last War, and all resources of the enemy – of all times and fronts – will be used."

"So, then the powers that be match this darkness with the warriors who can stop it," I finished.

"Exactly."

"The ring!" cried Frodo. "You mean that I'll have to face the ring again?"

"No, dear Frodo, no. The one ring was forged by evil, an evil tool, and evil to the core, corrupting all, but it was never included amid the song of the Ainur – even when clashing against the melody of Melkor (known as Morgoth). Balrogs and Orcs and other creatures of the dark were foreseen and included among evil. But those not among that _first_ conflict, such as the one ring, were not – and will not be used in the _last_ conflict."

_Whatever._

I wished I hadn't let my guard down at that moment. But then, I also wished Billy Robinson had asked me to the Prom.


	3. Yo ho yo ho, yah get the drift

**Chapter 3**

A body knocked into me, throwing me down on top of Pippin. _I'll kill 'em!"_ Let's just say being knocked down and already being injured hurt more than I care to say. My face hit the floor and my chest injury landing on Pippin's hilt. _I'll rip 'em apart!_ It felt as if someone reopened the wound and the skin was ripping wide open from that point forward.

"Sorry," said the attacker. That carelessness! That laidback accent! That improper disregard!

Boromir grabbed the attacker and put him into a hammer-lock. "Easy on the goods, mate."

I looked up and got a quick glimpse of light reflect off of a gold tooth.

_Him! A warrior of light?_ "We're dead!" I groaned, rolling off Pippin. I clutched the dressed chest wound, thinking how many pieces I would leave _him_ in. Through clenched teeth, glaring up at the now prisoner, "Did I ever mention I hate pirates?" _Especially one's acquainted with the undead and makes bargains with unnatural squid/crustaceans._

"Sticks 'n stones, love," said Sparrow.

"Pirates!" echoed Merry as he and Pippin helped me to my feet. Both took an arm and lent their shoulder, their eyes never leaving the pirate captain – I'd like to think those two were resolved protecting me.

"Let him go!" said a voice behind us.

_Oh goody…_ _Here comes the preppie, sniveling whelp with a sword. I haven't even seen him and already I want to wring his neck. Ten bucks says his manipulative ladyfriend is right behind._

Sure enough, Will Turner was stand on the top of a fleet of stairs, sword drawn and Elizabeth Swann standing just behind him. They were going to fight in Armageddon? I rolled my eyes. _We're doomed._

Aragorn drew his sword, pointing it at Turner. "He attacked one of our number – someone who was already in pain."

"And you hold a friend and a good man," he countered.

"He is a pirate, a Consair!" said Aragorn.

"He is a hero," said Turner.

"He is a scoundrel," said Aragorn.

"Okay… We're on the verge of the Last Battle, the enemy is gathering their strength, and we're ready to stab each other in the back… We're dead, doomed, damned, and all of the above."

Gandalf chuckled. "Not exactly the way I'd have put it… but to the point. Boromir, please release this man. We best all stay together, not slit each other's throats."

Boromir hesitated momentarily, then released his hold, taking his position between me and the pirate (just to let you know, all this cuddling and protectiveness was starting to get on my nerves). Sparrow shook away, thankful, hands clapped as if in prayer and bowing in gratitude towards Gandalf.

Turner sheathed his sword and climbed down the stairs, quickly followed by Swann.

"I take it I'm forgiven," Sparrow reasoned.

"Perhaps," I mused. True, I knew that all in all, Sparrow was a good guy, but still he was the type who would use every situation to his advantage. "It would depend."

"Depend on what?" asked Swann.

I looked to Turner, "Don't do anything stupid," then to Swann, "No complaining about corsets," and then to Sparrow, "And NO ASKING WHY THE RUM IS GONE!"

The three each held an expression of bewilderment, momentarily looking toward the other two.

"Friend of yours?" Sparrow asked Swann.


End file.
